The atmosphere was electric, hundreds of people gathered outside the citadel holding placards aloft, chanting for equal rights. I wound my way through the crush of humans, most letting me pass unhindered, some openly staring at me in distrust. Conversations and shouting crashed over me in waves, indistinct but exciting. I carried my placard in solidarity to the humans around me, although I was not really one of them.

The glimmering citadel stood in the middle of Prang, the city that I was raised in, the only home I had ever known. It’s marble walls towering over me. A massive inner city for the pure blood Fae, to look over the greater city beyond. No-one really knew what went on behind those walls, only that humans and creatures like me were not permitted to enter. I had often wanted to press my hand to that cool marble, trace the golden veins through the coral stone. I wished to be granted entry inside, dreamed of walking through those streets.

The colourful banners and logos, glinting in the filtered sunlight, cast by the huge trees that grew everywhere. “Fairies play, humans pay!” Shouted back and forth through the crowd. Picking up more voices as it bounced through the gathered people. Energies built up to boiling point as the Royals hid within the marble walls of the citadel. Standing amongst them I could feel the rage in their words. A few people stood above the crowd on wooden crates or stools, telling their stories of injustice and cruelty at the hands of the Fae. I stopped near an older woman, crying about her son who was taken in the middle of the night by the soldiers. “I don’t even know where he is, they won’t tell me.” Sadly her story was only one in thousands.

Humans were very much second class citizens on the continent of Margel. Their short lifespans and non-existent magical abilities kept them down trodden. Although every once in a while a human would come along with magical potential, but the Fae refused to school them with their children, even going so far as to bind their potential behind specialised tattoos. These tattoos were all too familiar to me. The ink mixed with magics and enchanted to ensnare the magical abilities of another. My own tattoo glittered around my eyes in golden vines to keep me in check. Every time I looked in a mirror I was reminded of what I was, that I was inferior to ‘them’.

Human children were taught for menial labour, how to till the fields and gather the crops, the basics of farm life. Usually working service jobs in the community. Humans were stronger that the Fae. So it fell to them to do the heavy jobs. Whereas the Fae held loftier positions. They were the leaders in the community, using their magics to ensure good weather, better crops, less pollution. They kept everything calm and peaceful, until today. Something must have happened to weaken the Royals, to weaken the enchantment of peace caste around the city. My eyes lifted to the bright golden sky, the shimmer of spell work was no longer interlaced with the pearly clouds high above.

I stood in the middle of the crowd, a half-breed- Fae dominant, I was indistinguishable from the Fae in form, but I had human blood in my veins. My father was 100% human. As a Fae dominant, only my tattoo showed what I truely was. So I may look Fae, but I was as powerless as a human, and treated as something less than that. Some disgusting, shameful thing to be hidden away.

I often felt that I had a worse deal than the humans, at least they were kept well. The government fed and clothed all humans under their reign. The half-breeds were given nothing. My kind were forcefully sterilised to prevent ‘the pervasive mongrels from taking over the land’. My mother, who was fully Fae was also sterilised at my birth, and my father was jailed and subsequently executed under secontion 4d of Fae law. ‘A human proven to have fouled a Fae with their seed or unnatural lust, shall forfeit their life in the act, and be sentenced to death.’ I had that law driven into my head every day of my life. My poor mother suffered a mental breakdown after my fathers death, and was locked up in an asylum. So I was taken in by the church to study as a cleric until such time as I was able to gain employment. My fist clenched as the anger surged through me. I listened to the stories of the humans, their grief and pain flowed from their lips as they gave voice to the atrocities done to them. Their children stollen for no reason, the older generations taken to the ‘camps’ never to be seen or heard from again. “The fae have to pay!” Was screamed from behind me, to nods and mummers from the gathered. I nodded my agreement before moving on, closer to the citadel gates.

At 16 years old, I left the church to work at a tavern in town. It wasn’t glamours, but it paid the bills. The humans trump card was that they were physically stronger than the Fae, they were needed. It was a blow to the Royal to have the entire human population of the city revolt against them. The half breeds, the Fae dominant especially, they had no skills to offer. That’s why I was here. If the humans can protest, then maybe my kind could too. Standing beside the humans, I hoped that this day would hear all a change Fae politics. Bring about a better future for all the citizens of Prang, including creatures like me.

If I were being honest with myself though, I didn’t think that it would do any good. Nothing changed in this world without the spilling of blood, but we had to at least try. I raise the sign in my hand, high above my head, seconds before the bullets ripped through the crowd and chaos erupted.